


Adequacy

by zuzeca



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Timeline What Timeline, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2016-03-10
Packaged: 2018-05-25 21:03:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6210067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zuzeca/pseuds/zuzeca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Megatron discovers a scandalous indulgence among Optimus's belongings and Optimus offers to show him how it works.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adequacy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kikuhiko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kikuhiko/gifts).



> For Plague, who has been a dear by ignoring how long this has taken me. Happy Christmavalenirthday, good madam. I hope you like it. :3

Megatron’s energy field was a pleasant itch against Optimus’s own, harmonics which would have once activated Optimus’s battle computer now a soothing reminder of Megatron’s position beside him on the berth. Megatron let out a quiet sigh, his field rippling peace and contentment; as though mere cycles ago he had not been biting at Optimus’s throat and clawing at his shoulder guards, half-begging, half-threatening Optimus to overload him.

“Can you spare a cleaning rag?” Megatron said.

“Storage crate straight across from the berth,” said Optimus, optics still offline.

Megatron groaned and rolled to his feet, components creaking and Optimus onlined his optics to watch Megatron limp across the room, torn between concern that he had done Megatron some damage in their tumble and a dark pulse of excitement at the visible proof tracking down Megatron’s thighs.

Megatron knelt before the storage crate, slid back the latch and flipped up the lid before rummaging inside. “Ah, here we—” he paused, peering into the crate. His orbital ridges furrowed. “Well, Optimus, I cannot say I would have pegged you for the type.”

“Hm?” said Optimus.

Megatron reached into the crate and withdrew an object, balancing it on his palm so that Optimus could see the curved, recognizable shape of a spike toy, smooth, chromed metal gleaming bright against Megatron’s hand. Optimus raised one orbital ridge. “I am afraid I do not quite understand what you mean. It is a fairly basic model, nothing unusual.”

Megatron humphed and scrutinized the toy. “I never quite saw the point.”

Optimus couldn’t help a small snort of laughter, “I would think the point would be self-evident.”

Megatron’s shoulders hunched, and he ran a thumb along the surface of the toy, tracing the whorls and ridges. “I never owned one,” he said at last. “They were beyond what I could afford as a miner and later…they seemed a frivolous waste, an indulgence of the upper classes.”

Optimus turned towards him, propping himself up on one elbow. “I always found it more of a comfort than anything else. I have had that one a long time. I purchased it in Iacon before the war…after an entanglement with a mechanism on the force went awry.”

Megatron hesitated, as though trying to organize his thoughts. “I suppose…I suppose I saw them as sufficient for those who had no desire for congress with another mechanism, or those who were unable to find a partner. I simply never felt the lack.”

Optimus shrugged, “They can enhance your experience with a partner just as easily. I wasn’t entirely celibate after my affair as an officer. It all depends on preference.”

“So you admit that your forged equipment was not sufficient to satisfy?”

Optimus muffled a laugh, “Hardly. Bring it over and I will show you.”

Megatron did not move for several moments, running his fingers over the toy in nervous repetition. Finally he rose and approached the berth, but seated himself facing away from Optimus. “I did not mean to somehow imply that your equipment was not sufficient.” He sighed.  “I…even if we were not compatible I would still prefer your touch to that of anyone else.”

A little, tender pain flashed across Optimus’s spark. Sitting up, he scooted over and pressed his chest against Megatron’s dorsal plating, allowing his helm to rest against Megatron’s shoulder guard. The moments stretched out until at last he felt Megatron relax back against him. Optimus slid an arm around him and petted Megatron’s ventral plating, soothing and slow, before tracing his way down to Megatron’s still-exposed valve.

Megatron’s breath hitched and Optimus pressed his helm against the back of Megatron’s neck as he parted him, fingers sliding easily through the fluids left by their earlier activities. “Lie back,” he murmured.

There was something strange and beautiful about the way that Megatron sagged back against the berth, limp and trusting. Optimus shifted out of the way and bent over Megatron to press a kiss against the top of his helm. Megatron’s fingers slackened around the toy and Optimus slid it from his grip before turning to straddle him. He scooted down Megatron’s body and set the toy aside, within easy reach, before hiking Megatron’s pelvic span up and nuzzling into his valve. Lubricant smeared across his face and he flicked his glossa out to taste.

Megatron arched and Optimus rumbled low, pushing his glossa inside, probing. Charge crackled and Megatron's valve squeezed tight.

Optimus kept him there, teasing gently before easing off, letting Megatron's charge build even as he slid his hand down the berth to grasp the toy.

Megatron squirmed under him, bucking. “Get on with it,” he rasped.

“Easy,” said Optimus, pulling back and licking lubricant from the edges of his mouth. “There is no rush.”

“Easy for you to say,” said Megatron, grumbling. “You are not the one being tormented.”

“Torment?” said Optimus, rubbing his thumb around Megatron's anterior node in slow, deliberate circles and hiding a smile as Megatron cursed and wriggled. He adjusted his grip on the toy. “No, if I wished to torment you, I would make you choose between my spike and my mouth. But as things stand now…”

He lowered his mouth and sucked hard on Megatron's node and, as Megatron moaned and pushed up against him, made his move, sliding the toy home. _“I am feeling generous.”_

Megatron let out a choked cry. He was still slick and loose from their earlier tumble and the toy slid in and out of him with ease. Of course it didn't have the same capacitance and current flow as a real spike but--Optimus thumbed a small activation switch on the base--there were compensations.

Megatron went rigid, optics wide. “Optimus?” he said. His legs shook.

Optimus hummed and flicked his glossa against Megatron's node. “Pleasant, is it not? Not as fancy as some, but it does add variety. I like the spines setting in particular myself. Flexible, not too harsh,” he twisted the toy, dragging it out in a long, slow stroke, “but just enough to give the experience an… edge.”

Megatron's fingers scraped against the surface of the berth. Optimus chuckled, “Never fear, today is not a day for edges. I will be merciful.” He licked the open housing above the apex of Megatron's valve. “Give me your spike.” 

“ _That_ is your idea of mercy?”

“Call it palliation then,” said Optimus. He nuzzled Megatron's thigh. “Open for me.”

Megatron shuddered and then his spike pressurized, dripping with charge and lubricant. Optimus rocked the toy into him and took the spike into his mouth.

Megatron's legs tightened around him, pleasing pressure against Optimus’s waist and chest as he sucked. Megatron groped at Optimus's shoulders as though trying to steady himself, torn between the stimulation to his spike and valve as he bucked into Optimus's mouth and pushed back into the toy.

_“Come on,”_ Optimus purred to him. _“I can feel how close you are.”_

Megatron jerked up, half-curling over Optimus's helm as fluid burst onto Optimus's glossa. Optimus slowed, but kept the toy in motion, waiting, coaxing…

Megatron's fingers dented the metal of Optimus's shoulder guards and his pelvic span jerked as he overloaded once more before going limp. “Slag and smelt me,” he panted, breath hot against Optimus's antennae.

Optimus pulled off Megatron's spike with a small cough. “So,” he said. “Do you find your opinion changed?"

Megatron's expression turned a touch embarrassed. “There may be some merit to them,” he said, pressing his face against the top of Optimus's helm. “I will let you know when I can think properly again.”

“Of course,” said Optimus, reaching up to stroke Megatron's cheek with one sticky hand. “And if you find yourself in need of further demonstration to formulate your opinion, I am certain that can be arranged.”

“Fragger,” muttered Megatron, and Optimus smiled, and kissed him.


End file.
